


YREMARM

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights Display, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, Fluff, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Fitz takes Jemma to a Christmas lights display, and under the guise of playing to her competitive side, sets everything up to ask her an important question.





	YREMARM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shes_an_oddbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shes_an_oddbird/gifts).



> Written for @shes-an-oddbird (at tumblr) as part of the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa. Hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Thanks to @lazyfish, who was my moral support and my cultural reference while writing this.

“Okay, that has been enough.” Daisy turns around on her chair and looks at him pointedly. “You are driving me insane with all the drumming and the twirling around. I don’t know what is going on with you, but spill it.”

Fitz stops spinning in his chair and bites his lip, considering.

“I need to ask a favour from you,” he finally says after a long pause.

Daisy scoots closer, curiosity painted all over her face.

“Do tell.”

“Would you, um.” He stops, pondering over how much to tell Daisy. He trusts her, but they have also been trained to trust nobody. “Would you take out Jemma shopping tonight?” he asks finally, deciding that it is need-to-know information, and therefore Daisy should now only what she needs to know.

Daisy looks taken aback for not being trusted with any specifics, and also a bit surprised by his request.

“Sure.”

“Here.” He extends her his credit card. “Make sure she buys herself something nice.”

“Ah.” A lewd smile spreads on Daisy’s face, and Fitz rolls his eyes at her. “So you meant _that_ kind of shopping.”

Fitz slaps her leg with the card, and blatantly ignores her swatting at his arm in retaliation.

“Not like _that._ I’m taking her to a Christmas lights display tonight. I just want her to have a new scarf, or a pair of gloves, or earrings, or whatever. Something nice and cozy.”

“So you can get cozy with her after it, amirite?” She elbows him on the ribs, and Fitz pokes her on the side.

“Well, yeah,” he admits. “But I also want her to feel nice. Today is,” he clears his throat, and looks at her from the corner of his eye, “an special occasion of sorts.”

“Say no more, pal.” Daisy stands up and claps him on the back. He is about to ask her if she _knows_ what he means, but realizes that him asking would spoil the point of the secretism if she doesn’t, so he keeps his mouth shut. “I got ya.”

“Daisy?” He waits till she turns around to look at him, and he smiles. “Thank you.”

She looks like she is about to say something but decides against it at the last minute, just returns the smile, nods and leaves.

* * *

 Jemma wraps the new emerald-green scarf around her neck and smiles at her reflection. Daisy had boosted about how much it made her eyes pop, and had insisted that she had to take it home, matching gloves included, _here, consider it my Christmas gift in advance if you want_.

Jemma had squinted her eyes at her friend, because Daisy was always encouraging but not usually invested in any shopping that wasn’t videogames or makeup. Or candy. She had ultimately decided to shrug and go with the flow; she did like the scarf after all.

Now, the softness of the fabric against the skin of her neck gives a little bounce to her step on her way to the hangar. A gift from a friend and a night off with her sweet boyfriend; what else can a girl ask for?

(Don’t even let her go into that, because she has a list. Color-coded and everything.)    

Fitz is waiting for her, handsome as ever in his coat and the blue scarf his mum made for him last year. He is wringing his hands but a smile paints on his face as soons as he sees her, and Jemma can’t help but reciprocate it. Scratch what she said before: as long as she can keep this, she can make do without everything else on her list.

He opens the door of the van with a flourish, and Jemma giggles while getting inside. Fitz looks a bit preoccupied while he takes the van out of the garage, and Jemma decides to let the silence last as long as he wants; he might have his mind on something, maybe work related, and though she could probably help him with pretty much anything, she is content with letting him take things at his own pace.

She lets almost fifteen minutes pass before asking him where they are going.

“I found out there is a lights display nearby. It’s been a while since we did anything christmas-y, so I thought it would be nice?” He started out confident enough, but finishes with a frown, and Jemma squeezes his thigh to reassure him.

“It sounds lovely.” Fitz looks down at her hand on his leg, taking a sharp breath, and okay, that is weird. “I mean, if you are up to it. Are you sure you are feeling alright?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” He replies, too quickly and too breathy for him to sound sincere.

“Just want you to remember that you can be honest with me.”

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, and Jemma tries to smile reassuringly at him. His grip on the wheel keeps on being way too thigh, but at least his face relaxes a little.

“Yeah, I do remember. Thank you, Jemma.”

* * *

He doesn’t even feel the cold when they get down the car and he grabs Jemma’s hand in his. Excitement is keeping him warm, and all the ride here he tried to keep a stern face, because otherwise he would have been smiling like a maniac and that would have tipped Jemma right off. Or he would have blurted everything out, like a damn idiot.

But now, in the middle of the snow, her eyes shining and her cheeks looking apple-red, he can’t help placing his hands on her neck and leaning her into a kiss. Their breaths almost freeze up between them, but Fitz makes her mission to keep her warm, and that includes her lips. They kiss for a little while, Jemma’s hands finding their way into his coat pockets, and Fitz feels drunk with giddyness.

It’s Jemma the one who breaks the kiss, and also doesn’t let him initiate another one.

“Oh, Fitz! This is so pretty!,” she exclaims, clearly enthralled, and Fitz tries to regain his composure. Damn, he almost lost sight of his ultimate objective here. He checks his wrist clock discreetly. Luckily, they are still on time.

“Shall we?” He offers up his arm for her to take, and they walk into the lights display.

He almost has a heart-attack when the boy from the ticket office winks at him, but Jemma doesn’t seem to notice, too focused on a reindeer that is changing colors at the moment. He puts his back between the ticket stand and Jemma as soon as he possibly can.

Jemma smiles at him, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and Fitz’s heart does a somersault.

“Not that I am complaining, but what prompted you to come to a lights display? You never were much for this kind of thing before.”

They are starting to walk through the path at a leisurely pace, and Fitz grabs her gloved hand in his, squeezing it lightly.

“I found out this particular one has a, um, let’s call it a challenge. And I know how much you like to play games, and especially to win them.”

He can only hope that she will want to win this one in particular.

Jemma tries to feign being affronted, but her laughter kind of demolishes her entire facade.

“I do like to win, that is true.” She looks to one side and then the other, and frowns. “There are no signs about the game, isn’t that weird? Tell me about it.”

Fitz gulps, and feels glad that he is wearing a glove, because otherwise she would probably notice how profusely his hand is sweating from nerves.

“Eh, um, maybe it is to make it harder? You know, like only interested people will know about it?” Jemma nods absentmindedly, so Fitz moves onto the next, more important topic. “They will be lighting up some letter-shaped lights during the night, and whoever finds them and assembles them into a phrase faster, wins a prize.”

“Oh!” Her face lightens up- she does love Scrabble-, and Fitz smiles at her while she tugs on his hand to make him hurry up. “Come on then, Fitz, we don’t want to miss the first one!”

* * *

The first one they find is a yellow “Y”, near the herd of reindeers Jemma was admiring when they got in. Jemma takes a picture of it on her phone, and Fitz tries to act innocently and let her lead the way instead of taking her immediately to the next spot. All in all, he gotta be glad because she is documenting this entire thing all by herself, without him raising suspicious for doing it.

They track along a random path, and Fitz gets a bit nervous when Jemma stops more time than he anticipated to criticize the biologically-incorrect features of the birds that decorate the tops of trees. Fitz takes advantage of the chance to place his jaw on her shoulder and whisper on her ear, “Hey, Jem. You know I love hearing you talk about the anatomy of birds.” She scoffs, and he grins, though she can not see his face. “But let’s try to enjoy this and not get too wrapped up on the science of it, yeah?”

She turns around inside his embrace, and Fitz can’t help leaning down to kiss her cold nose and then kiss her pout away. Her eyes are soft when they break apart, and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest, once again, that he almost spills the beans right there.

“But, Fitz, getting wrapped up in the science inaccuracies is half the fun!”

He bursts into laughter, and she grins, and god, he is so glad he gets to be doing this with her.

* * *

They find a blue “R” and a green “E” close together, with a lovely nutcracker in between them, and Fitz glances at Jemma, who is wearing her characteristic working-the-problem face.

Fitz buys them two cups of hot cocoa, to see if that would settle his nerves a bit, because they are starting to get out of control the more into it they get. They sit down on a bench to drink them, just in front of an enormous house that seems to be the biggest attraction of the display, full of kids that are looking at it open-mouthed.

“Thank you, Fitz.” She starts speaking so suddenly that Fitz turns his head to look at her, unsure if he was imagining it.

“What for?”

She shrugs, and then makes an all-encompassing gesture with the hand that is not holding her cup.

“All this. For reminding me that the work we do is important, but it is also important the life that there is beside the work.” She is looking with a fond smile at two kids making a snowman that mimics the one made with lights in the front of the house.

Fitz almost spills his entire heart right then and there. He does it, in a way, but he carefully picks what he says to her in order to not ruin the plan so close to its completion.

“You do that for me everyday, Jemma. It is only fair that I do it for you every once in a while.” She turns her head to look at him with intense eyes, and Fitz has to gather every ounce of strength in his body to not kiss her there, and instead point to the house, where a group of kids are gathering around a pink “M” that just lighted up. “There, look Jemma.”

She takes a quick glance at the letter, but quickle redirects her eyes to him, and Fitz swallows hard.

* * *

She does not feel guilty at all for abandoning their half-drunk cups on the bench in order to drag Fitz to a part of the show that has not lighten up yet, half hidden between trees. Some people would say that there is not stronger aphrodisiac than love, and Jemma is not sure she agrees- she is not sure her scientific background _allows_ her to agree-, but boy, does she love when Fitz gets emotional with her.

She pushes him against a tree, and she is not sure if it is the cold or the arousal, but his cheeks are flushed red, and she adores seeing him flustered like that. He gasps out of surprise, but his hands find her hips on instinct, and Jemma takes advantage of his bafflement to place a kiss on his jaw, and drag her lips up his cheek to his ear. His skin is cold, but so are her lips, and all in all the experience is not unpleasant at all, even if she wishes there weren’t so many layers of clothing between them.

“Jemma?,” he begins weakly, and she gives him a non committal hum as all reply, pleased with the way his eyes are fluttered closed at the sensations. “Jemma, look.”

That makes her drag her mouth away from him, even if reluctantly; he won’t cut cold a make out session like that if it weren’t for something important. The first thing she sees is the hoard of children running towards them, and okay, that is a good enough reason to put a respectable distance between their bodies, but she doesn’t understand why they are being pursued by the kids all of a sudden. And then she follows the direction Fitz’s finger is pointing at, and she sees the red “A” letter that has lightened up on the entrance of the small forest they are hiding in.

Of course this is her luck. She hides her face against one of the lapels of Fitz’s coat and laughs her heart off.

* * *

Fitz is not gonna say that he didn’t enjoy Jemma’s bold attempt at a derailment of their evening, because he did, but he is a man with a mission, and he is gonna complete, so after they are swarmed by kids, he takes Jemma’s hand on his and drags her away and towards the next, more important point.

Jemma is sulking a little, and to make up for her hurt feelings, he puts her hand inside his coat pocket, and runs his thumb over her knuckles softly.

“Where are we going?,” she asks, and Fitz shrugs, trying for nonchalance. but coming across as awkward instead.

“Just thought that looked nice,” he replies, signaling to a path a couple feet ahead of them that leads to an arch decorated with mistletoe, garland and wreaths, all made of tiny lights. It is probably the prettiest thing in the whole display, but it is not as flashy, so there is not that many people there.

“It sure does!,” Jemma replies at the same time as she withdraws her hand form his pocket, and takes for a sprint in front of him. “The last one to get there explains to Coulson why we are out so late!”      

“I already did!,” he yells at her back, but still chases after her. Her laughter makes the run worth every effort.

He finally catches her just under the arch, his arms around her waist, both of them out of breath, and they cling to each other for support, laughing and gasping and beaming.

“Look, Fitz!” She turns around then, and Fitz steels himself for what it is to come, his hand nervously twitching inside the coat pocket opposite to the one he shared with her earlier. “Another letter!”

It is not one, but two, an “R” and an “M”, both in a golden color if he doesn’t misremember, but Fitz does not turn around to look at them, instead falling into one knee, the black velvet box tightly held in his fist, even though the snow is soaking up his trousers.

Jemma is standing still, her head tilted to one side, and Fitz can almost see the letters being arranged in the correct positions inside her head.

“Aw, Fitz, that is sweet! Someone is using this thing to propose!” She turns around slowly, almost like she is teasing him, and his heart travels to his throat. She finally is looking at him, kneeling and with a ring box open in his hand, and her eyes widen. _“Oh.”_              

Fitz opens his mouth, but his voice doesn’t seem like it wants to come out, so he clears his throat and tries again, “I didn’t want to do it on base, but I also wanted something at the same time private and special, so I guess this was a compromise.” He gives her a couple seconds in case she wants to say something, but Jemma is still stunningly silent, so he keeps going with something close to his speech. “Jemma Anne Simmons, we have been best friends and partners for half our lives, and you make me happier than I ever imagined I could be. I think the only way you could make me any happier would be if you agreed to be my wife, so, will you marry me?”

Her reply is a deep laugh, and Fitz can’t help frowning a little, but it is her happy laugh, and not her mocking one.

“Oh, Fitz.” She sighs, and her hands envelop his and the ring, and she pulls on them to get him back on his feet. “I will be honored to be your wife.” Now that he is looking at her from up close he can see that her eyes are shining with tears, and that makes his own eyes water. “But before I kiss you senseless and we go thank whoever helped you with setting this whole thing up, there is something you need to know, to be fair.” His eyes widen a little in alarm, but she is still smiling, so instead of panicking right away, he gives her a nod to let her know he is listening. “I was planning of making this your Christmas gift, but giving the circumstances, I think you ought to know.” She inhales deeply, and Fitz leans his head closer to her face. “I am pregnant, Fitz. We are going to have a baby.”    

He stays in stunned silence for a second, and then he picks her up in his arms, making her spin around. Jemma yelps in surprise, and once he puts her down, he takes her cheeks in his hands and covers her face with kisses. She is laughing and he is crying, and there is a soft snow falling on their shoulders and their heads, and how blessed it is that when he thinks he can’t ask for anything else, the bloody cosmos still manages to surprise with something else?  

* * *

They are walking slowly back to the car when he nudges her playfully on the side.

“You can’t withstand being surprised without trying to outdo me, can you?”

Jemma laughs, and really, what a beautiful sound that is, but she then fixes him with a pointed stare, “You organized this whole thing counting on us hiding on a secluded forest to make out, so you are one to talk, Leopold Fitz!”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Prompts
>   * Image reactions
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.



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